


as the storm rolls quickly in

by redledgers



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Dinner and drinks, F/M, Tattoos, Thunderstorms, Unexpected Visitors, Wanderlust, insinuation of ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sooner she got him off her back, the sooner she could sit on her own damn couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as the storm rolls quickly in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Study_in_Scarlett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Study_in_Scarlett/gifts).



As apartments went, hers was pretty nice for something most people decided to consider apartments. Natasha didn’t have a burning desire to have the best penthouse in the city, so she took what was essentially a townhouse instead, something simple that she could call home after spending so long traveling. 

The only problem with having a place like to call home was being responsible for the key. Which, as she found when she dug around in her bag for it, she didn’t have. She growled in frustration, may have slapped the doorframe, and was slightly embarrassed when she heard someone go up the stairs of the house next door. Of all days to leave her keys on the table, it had to be today. The wind started picking up, catching her curls, and she groaned again, looking through her bag for something she could pick the lock with. The predicted storm was coming sooner than she thought.

“Having some trouble?”

She stopped. “I’m sorry?”

Her neighbor, usually as elusive as she was, stood on his own stairs, keys in hand. “Are you locked out?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I do, that’s why I asked.” He held up his keys. “Look, the storm is coming soon, and I think I’d hate myself if I left you out to get drenched.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I could just go somewhere else to wait it out,” she replied smartly. No need for him to see her break into her own place. The sooner she got him off her back, the sooner she could sit on her own damn couch.

“But you probably don’t want to, and I happen to have a couch, television, and leftovers in my fridge.” He jangled his keys as if to make a point, and unlocked his front door. “Your choice though, obviously.”

Natasha considered this. She didn’t really know her neighbors, had made a point to know _of_ them but not get too comfortable with them. Plus, she could hear the not too distant rumbling of thunder and decided, why the hell not. If it proved to be an uncomfortable interaction, she could easily never see him again if she wanted. After one last look at her door, Natasha went next door and knocked lightly on her neighbor’s door before peeking her head in. “Hello?”

“Make yourself at home.” He was in his kitchen pouring a beer into a glass. Jacket now off, Natasha could see he had a full sleeve tattoo on his left arm. It looked mechanical, as if he had a metal arm.

She toed off her shoes and dropped her bag by the door. “I don’t suppose you have another one of those.”

He pulled a second bottle out and poured it into a glass. “The name is James,” he said, handing it to her. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Natasha.” She accepted the glass and went to sit down on his sofa. “I don’t spend much time at home.”

“You hungry? I can reheat the leftovers now.”

The rumbles of thunder got closer, and Natasha could hear the distant patter of rain making it’s way toward them. She wondered if he could as well. They were five minutes away from torrential rain. “Not yet.”

He watched her, sitting easily on the other side of the sofa. “Don’t suppose you often lock yourself out of your house?”

“And I don’t suppose you often invite strangers into your home for a beer because you pity they might ruin their hair in a thunderstorm.” Natasha quirked a smile and drank. “So what’s your angle? Because once the storm passes I’m still locked out.”

James shrugs. “No angle, not really. Stunning neighbor is locked out and I’m a helpful dude. Plus I wasn’t going to finish the leftovers by myself.” He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, an easygoing movement that Natasha catalogued for later—she had to see how genuine he was. Curiosity often won over sensibility with her, but it didn’t mean she had to throw caution to the wind; the thin knife strapped to her thigh was enough proof of that.

“I’ll figure it out.” Natasha was content to sit in silence, observing him without letting her watchfulness be known. Her gaze kept wandering back to his tattoo, and there were questions she wanted to ask. She was about to when a crack of thunder startled him.

Some of his beer sloshed onto the couch as he caught himself. “Shit,” he mumbled, patting ineffectively with his hand. Embarrassed, he put his drink on the table and slunk off to get a paper towel.

“Everything okay?” She was drowned out by another loud crack of thunder.

He didn’t startle as much this time, disguised it by sitting down, and balled up the damp paper. “If you don’t like this beer, I have other stuff in the freezer.”

The rain dumped in a deluge on the roof, creating a blanket of white noise to dull the rumbles of thunder.

He knew she could see through his cover up. She shook her head. “You have pretty decent taste in beer.”

James smiled, part happy part grateful. “Good to know.”

“If it’s all the same, I’ll take those leftovers now.” Natasha wasn’t quite hungry, but she didn’t know what else to say. Eating would (hopefully) minimize small talk, pass the time, and she would have figured out a way to excuse herself from this situation and break into her own house.

As he went about reheating leftover takeout and pairing it with other things from his fridge, Natasha hung over the back of the couch and watched, cataloguing his movements. James moved like an ex military man, and she didn’t have to wonder about why he left. He was precise and efficient, and soon brought over plates full of Indian food and salad. A smaller plate balanced on his forearm had cookies.

“Sort of clearing out the fridge, I guess,” he said bashfully as he set down the plates.

“What’s the story behind that?” Natasha motioned to his arm with her glass, turning her attention to the food. Let him talk, that was the plan. No personal questions directed her way. Dinner and drinks with an attractive man was enough for now.

James looked at his arm like he forgot it was even tattooed. “Oh. Had to cover up a stupid military tattoo. Thought a metal arm would be cool. Of course, this one isn’t actually metal. But it gets some looks at the gym and is a bitch to cover with sunscreen. Why, you like it?”

It was her turn to shrug. “It’s different,” she said before taking a bite of food. “What branch of the military?”

Wrong question to ask, apparently; James gave her this _look_ and downed the rest of his glass. They ate in silence, the sound of thunder and rain the only mediation between them. Then, a crack of thunder shook the house, followed by the sound of every appliance shutting down, and the pair was plunged into darkness.

“Shit.”

Natasha’s eyes adjusted only a little, enough for it not to be complete darkness. “No chance you have a backup generator?”

“I have candles in the pantry and a few flashlights. Not expecting this sort of thing to happen on the regular.” She heard him shuffle around the house, opening drawers and striking a match. A bit of candlelight brightened up the place, and she could see faint outlines of everything. More candles were lit, and James placed them strategically around the living room so they had enough light. He put the flashlights on the table. “For later,” he said.

“Are you sure you’re not friends with some thunder god? To any other girl it might look like you’re trying to romance me.” She said it dryly, but the joke was enough.

He smiled. “I’m not. Once the power comes back on you’re welcome to go do whatever it was to get into your own house.”

Natasha settled back against the cushions and stared at the flickering flames. “I was planning on picking the lock before you had to show up.”

“So you’re humoring me?”

“I never turn down a free dinner.” She flashed a smile. “And to be fair, this lighting makes you look better.” 

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

“Those words never came out of my mouth. I, if you must know, enjoy telling the truth when it suits me.”

“What else suits you?” He was curious, and Natasha weighed the pros and cons of saying anything more.

She decided she wasn’t entirely uncomfortable with this unexpected arrangement, he _was_ very attractive, and he clearly had things he didn’t want to talk about just like she did. “Many things do,” she replied. For one, the possibility of having a friend suited her.

To pass the time without dealing with awkward questions, James pulled out a checkerboard. They tied with each other after eight rounds, and in the middle of the ninth, the lights flickered back on. The rain had lessened but the rumbles of thunder persisted.

“Guess I have to let you go home, huh.”

“A promise is a promise.” She jumped his pieces, effectively winning, and stood to get her things. “I guess I’ll see you around, neighbor. Thanks for your pity.”

He waved her off, and Natasha got into her own place just fine. She stopped in the hallway, house keys in hand, and looked back at the door.

When a surprised James opened his door again, she kissed him in the doorway, not caring that she was getting drenched. Friend meant all sorts of things in her line of work.


End file.
